


Breathing in the chemicals YUUEEEUH

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Asthma, Asthma attack, First Aid, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Peter with asthma, Prompt Fill, Swearing, Team Bonding, Whump, bucky is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Peter and Bucky are trapped and Peter DOES NOT like small spaces. But that's only their first problem





	Breathing in the chemicals YUUEEEUH

**Author's Note:**

> So, in this fic Peter acts kind of young and a little childish but to be fair he is a child. Like, my little sisters is turning 16 soon and this is how she'd react so, its sort of accurate? Sorry if its too ooc especially with bucky because his personality isn't really something we get in the movies so I don't know how to write him but anyway whatever this was fun to write and I hope you like it.
> 
> Also thank you so much Allison for helping with the last couple of lines!!

Tony was adjusting something in the armour over his wrist, eyes focussed on it when Peter hopped excitedly into the room. 

“I’m ready for our mission!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, flinching as the armour zapped his fingers when he tinkered with it. “Did you have breakfast?” 

“Yep!”

“Did you call May?”

Peter was tugging his suit into place where it was bunched around his armpit, the sleeve twisted the wrong way, and he pulled it right before tapping his chest and letting the suit conform to his size. “Yes, and I told her I’d be back for dinner.”

“Did you take your inhaler?”

Peter didn’t say anything and Tony looked at him, exasperation breathing through his voice. “Peter.”

“Ughh.” He’d heard the coming words enough times to know exactly what they would be.

“You know you have to take it every morning, you can’t just use the blue one when you need it. The orange one-“

Peter eyes rolled and his whole body drooped as he complained. “-works to prevent it but it works over time. I know!” 

Tony raised a hand as he shook his head. “Then why do I have to keep reminding you? Go get it, I’ll wait.” 

 

Peter plodded over to his backpack where it sat beside the holo table in the war room. He pulled his inhaler out and put the mouthpiece between his teeth before Tony frowned at him. 

“Don’t half-ass it. Use your spacer.” 

Another whine fell from Peters' mouth, followed by words spoken around his inhaler. “It’s in my room.” 

Tony levelled his gaze at the teenager, making it clear he wasn't about to ask again. Peter groaned, head thrown back dramatically as went off to do as he was told. 

Tony shook his head, sighing at the kid before his eye caught the smile of Steve who was cleaning his shield at the table. He looked back to where Peter had gone and opened his mouth to speak, only for Tony to hold up a hand to stop him.

“He has asthma okay? It’s not a big deal. I have heart problems, Bucky has one arm, and Clint is deaf. He can still do his spider thing just fine.” He couldn't help but be protective, and Steve just laughed.

“I wasn’t going to say he couldn’t, Tony. Are you forgetting that I tried to get into the army with all my crap? I was going to say you’re really good with him. You’re a good dad.” 

Tony quickly looked back to his armour as he shrugged, cursing the warm blush that ran up his face. 

“I’m not his dad. I- just.... thanks.” 

Steve nodded and went back to his shield before Peter ran back in. “Done! Can we go now?”

Tony nodded and ushered the kid to the deck to get going, trying to ignore the words swirling around in his head. ‘You’re a good dad.’

Peter was practically bouncing as he pulled his mask on, waving to Cap on his way out.  
“Bye, Steve! See you later!”

“See ya, buddy. You take care of Tony, okay?”

“I will!”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Two weeks later

“I need some help over here. This building’s not evacuated.”

Bucky's voice came through the comms and Peter listened to Mr Stark reply with what sounded like a frown. “Why not? I told the cops to set up a five-block perimeter until we get this wormhole closed.”

“The side of the building was damaged by one of those aliens. The elevators all messed up and stuck and there are people inside. I need a friendly face to help me get them out.” Bucky had a point about ‘friendly faces’. The Winter Soldier was pretty well remembered for being a bad dude and he didn’t think scared civilians would feel much better if a known assassin peeled the roof of their elevator off like a can lid. 

Peter webbed up a pair of aliens that were trying to eat the power lines before Mr Stark spoke again.

“Okay, Spider-Man, go help Bucky. Try to be quick though, it’s not safe for those people to be anywhere near this mess.”

The teenager threw the aliens back through the wormhole before swinging off down the street. “On it!”

Peter found the building quickly and followed Karen's directions to the elevator, finding Bucky there waiting. 

“I don’t know how long that cable is going to hold.” He pointed up, Peter spotting the damaged cable where it was threatening to snap. The elevator was creaking and groaning, not sounding at all like an elevator should. He could hear the terrified screams from the trapped civilians inside. 

“If we both go down we can get them out faster but it’ll also-”

Bucky nodded, finishing his sentence for him. “Add more weight, yeah.”

Peter analysed the situation for a moment, calculating weight and the structural integrity of the elevator before sighing and aiming his web shooters. “We have to risk it. I can add some webs to help hold our added weight but I don’t know if it’ll hold when it snaps.”

Bucky nodded, happy to follow along as Peter shot his webs and climbed down, spider-crawling down the wall to the elevator car. He couldn't help but shudder a little at the young spider's behaviour. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” He followed the kid, using the webs to climb down before landing carefully on the elevator roof. 

Peter was already opening the safety hatch in the ceiling and called down to the scared occupants inside. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help. Bucky's going to lift you out and I’ll send you up to safety, okay? But as soon as you get out you need to leave the building and get clear.”

The trapped civilians nodded eagerly, lifting their arms up to their rescuers. Peter moved aside as Bucky knelt and reached an arm down. 

“Ladies first.” 

The first woman was pulled up and Peter carefully hooked an arm around her waist and carried her up to the open floor above. Then two men went up until there was one left but Peter’s ears picked up on something. 

A creaking, groaning of metal coming from above. The sheave that supported the cables wasn’t strong enough to take the weight and jostling after the damage sustained. The cable was going to snap and the motor and supporting structure above would collapse. 

“Uh...Bucky. We’ve run out of time.”

The winter soldiers face met his, and though Peters' face was covered by his mask, he must have found something there that he understood because he nodded. 

The last civilian couldn't reach Bucky's hand so he leapt down and pushed them up but Peter didn’t have time to crawl them up as he’d done with the others. A quick apology left his mouth before he threw the poor man up onto the floor above, safe and sound. Right before the cable snapped. 

Peter’s breath left him in a rush, stomach plummeting nauseatingly as they dropped a meter before his webs took the strain but that only lasted for a second. 

“Kid!”

Bucky only had time to shout the single word before the webs snapped too and they fell. 

Peter didn’t have time to shoot more webs, didn’t have time to do anything but cry out as the floor dropped from under him and he plummeted. The emergency hatch was still open and Peter fell through it backwards, limbs scraping painfully against the sides as he went, and when his head hit the floor it all went black. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The webs snapped and Peter fell through the ceiling, hitting the ground hard enough that Bucky could hear the thud of his skull. The suits bright eyes flickered out and his limbs went limp, smacking against the floor and Bucky quickly curled himself over the kid, protecting them as they fell. 

“I got you, buddy.”

The horrible groaning and screeching from the elevator was so loud and painful to Bucky's ears that he groaned along with it. It was a long, long way down but the elevators safety measures had activated and the emergency brakes were doing their best to stop their decent. 

It should have safely brought them to a smooth halt like they were designed to do but the damage had been extensive and he could feel the snap and rumble of the breaks snapping apart. 

He curled his arms tighter around Peter and shielded him with his own body as much as he could but could do nothing to stop their harsh landing. 

The breaks had slowed them down some but they still came to a crashing halt at the bottom, the entire elevator shaking and screeching, sparks flying up above and beneath them. 

Bucky took a shuddering breath, surprised to find that he and Peter were relatively unharmed by the plummet and terrible landing. And by relatively, he meant not dead. 

He was about to check on the downed spider when something else creaked above them. The elevators motor and sheave that supported the cables were breaking. Because of course, they were. What else could go wrong?

Bucky spat out a curse as he crouched over Peter and lifted his metal arm above them, right before the broken metal and debris crashed down on the ceiling. 

They hurtled down and crashed into the roof, crumpling it towards the two heroes and Bucky did all he could to protect Peter, breaking his own arm in the process. 

He let out a cry of pain as his metal arm twisted and snapped in ways it shouldn’t have been able to, the weight of the motor too much for it. 

But Peter was safe, that's what mattered. Bucky lowered his ruined arm with a grunt of pain, watching and listening to make sure the motor and crumpled ceiling would stay where they were. They seemed to be through the worst of it, the dark elevator hauntingly quiet now that all the groaning had stopped. 

Bucky rolled off Peter and looked down at him, carefully getting to his knees so that he could use his good arm to pull the kids mask off. 

Peter’s eyes were closed and his face slack, head rolling limply when Bucky slipped a hand underneath. The back of his head was wet and Bucky’s hands came away slicked with red but the gash didn’t seem too bad and he sighed in relief. 

“Peter? I need you to wake up, buddy. Cause if I tell Tony what happened and he doesn't hear your voice he’s going to freak out.” 

There was no response and he sighed, bringing his hand up to his earpiece. “The civilians are out but we ran into a little problem.”

Steve’s voice came back through, worried and out of breath. “What problem?”

Tony would panic no matter how he explained it so, Bucky just said it straight out. “The cable snapped and Peter and I were in the elevator when it fell. My prosthetics busted and the motor came down. We're trapped in here.”

Steve cursed and Tony's voice came over the top, loud and worried. “Is Peter okay? Peter, talk to me.”

Bucky looked down at the teenager below him, eyes closed softly shut and hands lying limp beside him. “He hit his head, Tony. He’s knocked out but his breathing okay and his heart rate is good.”

“Dammit. Friday give me Peters readings.”

Bucky wiped the blood off on his pants and stripped off his jacket to place under the kids head. Peter's eyelids didn’t even flutter and Bucky gently pried them open to check his pupils as he listened to Stark react to Fridays readings from the suit. 

“You said his breathing good, Barnes. This says his ribs are broken and his breathing is strained.” His voice was hard and accusatory and Bucky wiped a tired hand over his forehead, wincing at the pain in his metal arm. 

“I said it was okay, not good. He’s not in any danger, alright? He’s going to be sore and I’d prefer if he woke up but he’s okay.”

Steve took over before Tony could give a retort, apology clear in his tone. “The wormhole is still open and there are too many things spilling out for us to get to you. Are you okay to wait?”

“I suppose we’ll have to.” His voice was tight and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compartmentalise his pain before it brought back a flashback or panic attack. 

Steve’s voice came back, quieter and tinged with worry and Bucky let out a small smile at the sound of it, his mind clearing as soon as Steve said his name. “How bad does it hurt, Buck? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. It’s just my arm. I’ll manage till you can get us out.”

Tony had obviously reigned in his anxiety over Peter and was trying his best to go easy on Bucky. “Take care of my- the kid. I’ll fix your arm once we get you out. We will get you out. Tell Peter I’m coming.”

The comms went quiet and Bucky brushed Peter’s hair back. “Tony’s coming, Bud.”

A groan slipped from the teenager's mouth and he rolled his head, wincing when it put pressure on his wound. Bucky’s good hand shot out and rested against Peters' chest as he watched those brown eyes blink open. 

“Peter? Can you hear me?”

“Bucky? Ow.”

He was waking up, blinking and looking around him as his hand came up instinctively to grasp Bucky's heavy one on his chest. 

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay, you just took a hard fall. Try not to move around too much till I’ve checked you over.”

Peter relaxed, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to breathe through the pain stabbing at his chest. “Ugh, my ribs.”

“I know. Just lay still. Is it okay if we take your suit off? Just so I can check?”

He nodded, squinting his eyes open as Bucky carefully peeled his suit down to his waist. There were the tell-tale red welts over Peter's side and the beginnings of bruises across his back and hips where he’d hit the sides of the emergency hatch. 

Bucky hissed in sympathy as he pressed the flat of his hands against Peters' ribs, feeling the give and shift of them. “I know, I know. Sorry. There’s three, maybe four broken and you’ve got some pretty heavy bruises. How's your head? Any nausea? Double vision?”

Peter tried to keep his breaths shallow to keep the pain at bay as he shook his head, stopping with a groan. “No, ugh...Okay, yeah. I’m nauseous and dizzy but there’s no double vision.”

Bucky smiled a little, tapping a gentle finger on Peter’s hand where it was clenched at his side. “That's because your eyes are closed. I think you have a concussion.”

“Oh.” Brown eyes opened, narrowed and hazy. “Okay, there’s two of you. Are your metal arms okay? Or is that the concussion too?” 

Bucky held in a laugh, knowing the excessive movement would only hurt his arm more. “Well, I only have one metal arm but...yeah, it's toast. I can’t get us out of here, sorry.”

Peters' eyes widened as he frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Bucky leaned to the side, out of the way so, Peter could see the partially crushed ceiling. 

“We can’t get out?”

“No. Sorry, kid. We’ll just have to wait for someone to get us. It may be a while.”

Peter eased himself off the floor, Bucky's good hand helping him along, as his eyes fixed on their botched exit. He couldn’t get out. He was trapped. 

“No, no, no this can’t be happening. We can’t be trapped.”

Peters' heart began to race and his breathing grew ragged and fast. Not a good idea with broken ribs. He let out a groan, knees threatening to buckle and Bucky's hand found his waist. 

“Hey, just try to keep your breathing slow. Sit down.” 

Peter stumbled, hands pressing against the side of the elevator as a whine slipped from his lips. It hurt. In his chest, in his side, in his head. Panic was gripping his heart and squeezing and he couldn't breathe. 

“Bucky, I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe, I have to get out!”

The former soldier stood, reaching for the teenager as his breaths began to sound more strangled as if his throat were closing up. 

“Peter-!”

The young hero reached for the ceiling, hoping to climb up and use his strength to get them free, but the thing about broken ribs is that it kind of makes it hard to lift your arms. 

He cried out in pain and Bucky's hand reached for him again, worried he’d fall. “Peter, I’m serious. You need to take it easy. I don’t want those broken ribs shifting and piercing a lung.”

Peter had his eyes scrunched shut as his knees crumpled and he fell to the ground. “You’re not helping!”

“Sorry, sorry! Here, take my hand. Please, don't crush it though.”

He took it, head swirling as he sat there on his knees, chest burning and breaths coming far too fast. 

Peters' throat was so tight and the panic was overtaking his brain. He hated the whines that were coming from his mouth and the way his shoulders started to shake as his eyes watered but he couldn’t help it. 

Bucky's voice was growing distant as Peters' brain strived for oxygen. “We’re okay, Peter. We’re safe for now. You’re going to be okay.”

Peter shook his head, breaths wheezing, dragging painfully between his teeth. “No. We’re trapped. I can’t get us out. I hate being stuck, I hate this. I can’t stay here. I can’t breathe.”

Bucky didn’t really like to admit it but he was out of his depth. He liked the kid but he and Peter had never really had any one-on-one bonding before let alone anything as intense as the awful situation they were in. He didn’t know how to help him. 

With Steve he usually just had to softly talk to him in slow sentences until he calmed down. He’d hold his hand and tell him that he was with him till the end of the line, that they could do anything together but he’d only known Peter for about five months. 

But the kid whimpered again, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks and Bucky shoved his own worry down. 

He softened his voice and kept it slow, trying to think about what made Peter feel better. “Kid, I’m right here. You’re not on your own. I’m going to protect you, okay?”

Peter nodded and Bucky relaxed a little, squeezing the teenagers hand. “If you don’t slow your breathing you’re going to pass out so, I need you to tell me what to do to help you calm down.”

Bucky suddenly noticed Peter was shaking when his hand trembled in his hold, and he rubbed his thumb slowly across the back of Peters' hand as he answered. “I-I want to talk to Mr Stark. I want Mr Stark here.”

Bucky nodded and grabbed Peters mask off the floor. “Okay, here. Talk to him.”

Peter didn’t want the mask over his mouth while he was still suffocating so, he took the mask and shoved it on until it was just over his eyes and ears, the rest pushed up above his nose. 

“M-Mr Stark?”

Tony’s response was immediate and soaked with relief. “Thank god. Peter, are you okay?”

Peter seemed to crumble at his voice, laboured drags of air dissolving into breathless sobs. “No.”

He sank down onto his haunches, his head lowered as he cried. “I’m scared. I don’t like small spaces.”

Bucky's heart broke a little for the kid and from the sound of Tony's voice, his had too. “Oh, Pete-”

Peter sniffed, breaths coming easier with his mentors voice in his ear. “Can you come get m-me? I mean us. Bucky hurt his arm and I hit my head. W-we need help.”

Tony hesitated, the background noise telling Bucky that the fight was still going on. “Pete, buddy, it’s gonna have to wait a little while. I need to secure this block before I can get to you. But I'm coming, okay? You hear me? I'm gonna get you out. You just hang in there.”

Peter’s sobs renewed and his shoulders shook in the cramped space. “No, you have to come now! There's not enough air in here. You have to come save me, now.”

Bucky didn’t need to tell Tony it was a panic attack, he clearly knew something that Bucky didn’t. “I know, Pete. I know you don’t like it in there but this is nothing like last time. You have Bucky and you have me coming to get you. And I will. I just have to finish this first. You take care of Bucky and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Peter’s crying slowed down a little as he looked at the winter soldier and his twisted, broken arm. Something in his expression hardened as he focussed, shoving away his panic as best as he could to focus on someone else that needed him. 

His voice still came with a whine but it was steadier than it had been before. “You promise?”

“I promise, buddy. I’m coming to get you out. And as soon as I do you can have a big hug. You just have to wait a little longer. Can you do that?”

Peter choked on another sob, trying to stop crying but it made his voice come out strained and cracked. “Okay. B-Be careful fighting.”

“I will. See you soon.”

The comms shut off again and Peter sniffed, breaths distinctly calmer than they had been before. 

He pulled his mask off and held it in his lap before he pulled his other hand from Bucky's grasp and used it to wipe his cheeks. “Sorry. I didn't mean to freak out. It’s stupid. Avengers don’t freak out and cry like babies in the middle of missions.”

Bucky carefully adjusted his legs so that he was kneeling in a more comfortable position, his damaged prosthetic hanging limply at his side. “You’d be surprised actually.”

Peter looked up, rubbing a fist over his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but my head hasn’t always been so clear.”

Peter nodded, finally calming down fully, his breathing sounding much better. “Yeah. I remember seeing you on the news. We read a little about you in history too. Was it weird waking up in a new time?”

Bucky thought for a moment, glad that the kid was focussing on something else. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t even remember a lot the hydra stuff but...waking up in Wakanda, that was the first time I was really myself again. That was weird. Technology is so different now. I’m just glad I have Steve. If he weren’t here...there’d be nothing for me.”

Peter nodded, watching him close and Bucky smiled, soft and kind. “You’re going to get cold like that. Here, let's get this back on.” He reached forward and helped Peter pull his suit back on where it had been hanging limply at his waist. 

“You sound like, Mr Stark.”

Bucky smiled at that, easing Peter’s arms back in the sleeves as carefully as he could so as not to aggravate either of their injuries. 

“Thanks, I guess. So, you don’t like small spaces, huh?”

A shake of the head, curls bouncing in the dim light. “I'm claustrophobic. I got a building dropped on me by my homecoming dates dad.”

Bucky let out a surprised huff, eyebrows lifting towards his hairline. “Damn. Rough night.”

Peter nodded solemnly, eyebrows furrowing down over his eyes. “Yeah. I didn’t even get to dance with her. And then her stupid dad tried to kill me. I was trapped and alone and I couldn’t get out. Not at first. Now I...I just don’t like being stuck.”

Poor kid. He was far too young to have already been traumatised by bad guys and villains. Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I get you. I have a thing about trains. And heights.”

Peter’s curious eyes met his, blinking through the dusty dark. “We learned about that in history. Sorry, you lost your arm.”

Bucky smiled a little, jerking his chin towards the kid. “Sorry, your homecoming got ruined. Villains, am I right?”

They laughed a little, snickering over their shared bad experiences before Peter started to cough. He wrapped an arm around his aching chest, squeezing his eyes shut against the stabbing of his broken ribs that came with each harsh exhale.

His breathing was growing strained again and Bucky leaned forward, worried. “Hey, you okay? I thought we’d gotten past the panic attack.”

Peter shook his head, dragging strained breaths in as he rocked back off his knees and onto his butt, feet pressing at the floor from the pain. His coughing continued and Bucky suddenly realized what was happening. 

The panic in Peter’s face, his tense shoulders and strained breathing as if his lungs couldn't expand as much as they should do. He’d seen it in Steve enough time to know it was asthma. 

There was the same dragging wheeze that Steve used to have too and Bucky's heart began to race in his chest. 

“Shit. It's all the dust down here. Do you have your inhaler?”

Peter shook his head, trying desperately to slow his breathing before another coughing fit started, the pain in his chest so bad his fingernails were digging into his palms. “No. But there’s- wheeze -smoke too. I can- wheeze -smell it.”

He was right. There was smoke permeating the air, thick and polluted. No wonder the kid was having an asthma attack. “Aw jeez, kid. Okay, we can’t lift your arms to open your diaphragm because of your ribs so, just try to keep your breaths as even as you can. Helps on it’s way.”

Peter nodded and closed his eyes, concentrating as Bucky lifted a hand to his comms. 

“Stark, we have another problem here.”

Tony’s out of breath voice came quick, almost too loud with panic. “What? What happened? Where’s Peter?”

 

Bucky looked to the kid, face reddening beneath the streaks of dirt as he fought to breathe. “He’s here but he’s having an asthma attack.”

Bucky could hear something blow up on Tony’s end of the coms as he cursed. “Shit. I can’t get to you just yet! I can’t get to him!”

Bucky turned slightly away from the teenager, not wanting him to hear Tony panicking. “You’re going to have to soon because he doesn’t have an inhaler on him.”

Tony's voice suddenly got louder and Bucky winced at the assault on his ear. “He has one built into his suit! Tell him to put his mask on!” 

Bucky's hand fumbled towards the mask on the ground and he quickly pulled it up to Peters' face, only to have those shaky hands come up to push it away. 

“Peter, it has an inhaler built in. Put it on.”

The kid shook his head, slumping back to thump against the wall behind him. He was going to pass out if he didn’t breathe but to have something pulled over his face while he was suffocating was too much. He would just panic again and he couldn't think clearly enough to find another solution. 

Thankfully Bucky did and he quickly flipped the mask inside out and pressed the mouth portion over Peters mouth and nose. 

Peter struggled for a moment, feeling as though he were being smothered but soon the suit recognised his distress and activated the air filter and inhaler, sending his medication to his waiting lungs. 

He recognised the familiar taste of the inhaler as soon as it passed his lips and eyes flew open, hands flying up to grab at Bucky's wrist, pulling his mask closer. 

Bucky sighed, whole body sagging in relief as Tony spoke again, eager and hopeful. “Did it work? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. Breathing is still strained. The inhaler isn’t going to be enough. He’ll need a nebulizer when you get us out but this will hold for now.”

Tony sighed and Bucky watched as Peter leaned heavily on the wall, eyes closed as he finally got the relief he needed. 

“Thank god. I’m almost finished there. I’ll get you guys out in just a minute then we’ll get you both to the infirmary.”

Bucky closed his eyes, tired from all the excitement. “That would be greatly appreciated.”

He laughed a little as he opened his eyes again and looked to the exhausted kid in front of him. “God, you scared me. I haven’t seen anyone have an asthma attack in a long time. You’re worse than Steve, you know that?”

Steve didn't sound as amused as Bucky had but it made the winter soldier smile all the same. “I heard that.”

:::::::::

As promised, help arrived five minutes later and Bucky once again shielded the younger hero as Tony and the others lifted the debris off the roof of the elevator. 

“There you are. I’m going to get you out, okay?”

Peter squinted up at his hero's coming down, a metal clad arm stretching toward him. Mr Stark was there, finally. Just like he promised. 

Bucky was lifted out by Steve but Peter was too sore to get up so, he simply waited. Tony didn’t hesitate, climbing into the small space and crouching down as he reached for Peter. His hands slipped around Peters back and, carefully as he could, pulled him up to press against his chest in the hug he’d been waiting for. 

“I got you, kid. I’m here now. God, you had me worried.”

Peter lifted his arms as much as he could without hurting and hugged Tony back, mask still pressed over his mouth. He was still wheezing, lungs too tight and irritated by the smoke and dust and Tony quickly picked him up in his arms and flew him up and out. 

Peter rested his head against Tony’s shoulder as they flew, hiding his face in his neck, and he closed his eyes and savoured the feeling of the wind whipping through his hair, finally free. 

::::::::::::::::::::

The nebulizer in the infirmary was way fancier than the one Peter had at home and it was far quieter too. 

Peter sat up in his bed, the head of it raised with a bundle of pillows to support him, the nebuliser mouthpiece held firmly between his teeth. Bruce had checked him over, scanning his ribs and lungs and his head too, just to be safe and he was deemed banged up but okay. 

The four broken ribs on his left side were being iced and had stayed in place and his concussion wasn’t so bad. The wound on the back of his head had been cleaned and didn’t even need stitches but Peter would still find it sore for a while.

The main concern was his asthma, so, he was to sit and use his nebulizer for at least ten minutes until the medication cleared up his lungs. 

Bucky had been checked over too and was fine, so, he sat with Peter to keep him company, prosthetic arm missing while Tony fixed it for him. 

“You know, I used to carry Steve’s inhaler around with me all the time.”

Peter wasn’t supposed to talk during his treatment so he simply lifted his eyebrows, eyes widening in a clear ‘really?’. 

Bucky nodded, smiling wistfully. “Yeah, he was this scrawny asshole that always kept me on my toes trying to keep him alive. Steve, put your jacket on. Steve, you’re allergic to that, put it down. Steve, you can't make snow angels, you have asthma. Of course, he never listened to me.”

Peter laughed a little, the sound made hollow from the tube between his teeth.

Bucky absentmindedly massaged his stump as he continued. “So, I always carried around an extra inhaler for him. Had to use it about a dozen times too.”

He shook his head a little, smile warming his whole face and making his eyes soften. “You know, even after Steve had the serum and got all big, I still worried about him. Nagged him just about every chance I got. It didn’t matter that he was fit as a racehorse, it was habit. Steve, you can't jump out of aeroplanes without a parachute. Steve, don't run in without backup. Steve, you can’t hike through the snow without a jacket.”

Peter laughed again before it turned into coughing and Bucky patted his chest gently, easing him back into steady breaths before he started speaking again. 

“I still kept his inhaler with me too. I found it with some of his stuff left over from before the serum and...I don't know it reminded me of the old days. So, even though he didn't need it I still kept it with me. Right up until that train. That stupid train full of Nazis. I lost it when I fell, I guess.”

Peter knew he still wasn’t allowed to speak so, he just smiled around the tube and patted Bucky’s hand instead, hoping he knew it was his way of saying thank you. For protecting him, for saving him, for keeping him calm. For everything. 

The former soldier smiled and turned his hand to take Peters' fingers and squeeze them.  
“You’re welcome, kid.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A few weeks later

“-which is why we’re going to have to go through the tunnels. I know it’s not ideal but it’s the only way we are getting in to get the intel we need. Everyone understand?”

Peter nodded, coughing into his elbow as Steve carried on with the mission briefing. His asthma was playing up, yet again, but his inhaler was in his room and he couldn't leave in the middle of the mission plans. 

Sure, Steve would let him but it was rude and Peter didn’t want to miss anything or make them wait. 

He dragged in a strained breath and hoped it would be over soon when a gentle hand tapped his arm. 

“Here.”

The teenager turned to see Bucky sitting beside him, eyes focussed on Steve but hand offering Peter an inhaler. One of his inhalers. 

“You carry my inhaler with you?”

Bucky shrugged and smiled, eyes finding Peter’s awed ones as they whispered to each other. “Yeah, well my friend has asthma. I have to take care of him, don't I?”

Peter took it gratefully, smiling back at Bucky before he quickly shook the inhaler and stuck it between his teeth, handing it back when he was done. 

Bucky put it back into his pocket and looked back to Steve, finding his eyes were on him. He was smiling knowingly, face warm and Bucky couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling more like his old self than he had in...almost a century.

He felt like the Bucky from before the Winter Soldier, before the war. He felt the way he had when he’d first met Steve on the playground. He had someone to take care of, someone to look out for. 

Steve watched Bucky for a moment before giving him a small nod and carrying on. He didn’t think he’d see much of his past, not in today’s world. But he knew Peter’s inhaler certainly brought him back.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic took a while but it's written for two prompts the first being "Peter has asthma attack and someone has to help him because Tony cant get to him" which 'grimmkipp sent through this site and the second being "How about a fic where Peter and Bucky are trapped somewhere together and Bucky helping Peter with his post-Homecoming claustrophobia? Bonus points for injured!Peter and field medic!Bucky. And the line "Kid, you're worse than Steve."
> 
> So, thanks for those that sent those in! I hope this is okay and I hope you liked it! Also the song the title is from was actually written for the Spiderman movies it's actually about Peter getting bitten by the radioactive spider so yoooo.
> 
> anyway sorry I know this fic is a little tangled and whatever but let me know what you think?


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